


Phototaxis

by kirakirababy



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Drabble, Drama, Gay, Gay Sex, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4343783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirakirababy/pseuds/kirakirababy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out, ours was really a love story between a moth and a buzzing porch light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phototaxis

_When in doubt, moths will orient themselves towards the brightest light source.  
It was once the moon.  
A life line in the dark._  
  
You knew it all back then.  
How to pose, how to pout, how to preen.  
Flirting with the camera. Making love to those lights.  
  
I wanted it to be me.  
  
“What do you believe in?” Such an innocent question. We were innocent then.  
Or maybe it was just me.  
I was twenty-five in 2004, we had a stylist that dressed us in matching white suits.  
  
You turned to me, makeup free, dirty blond hair sticking out at odd angles, graceful limbs tangled in the sweaty sheets, “the gazette.” You replied immediately.  
I'm not sure what I expected to hear.  
  
Rising stars in the company, we were already burning brilliantly.  
You would often tease,in those quiet moments alone, that we shone almost as annoyingly as Ruki's hair.  
  
“And your mind-blowing blowjobs.” You continued playfully, rolling artfully onto your back and coaxing me to move between your legs. “I definitely believe in those.”  
Somehow, I knew your answer should have told me everything.  
  
But I was blinded by your brightness, and would succumb every time.  
  
 _Replaced by incandescent bulbs.  
Flying in endless circles, an exercise in futility._  
  
A gray morning.  
It was something about the quality of the spring light.  
Stretched paper thin and metallic, that reminded me distinctly of you.  
  
Five a.m.  
The yellow light of the bathroom floor falling across my eyes woke me from a fitful sleep.  
It was always more difficult to sleep without you.  
On the bathroom floor, you lay half undressed, curled childishly against the cool porcelain of the tub. I could smell the evidence of the night before.  
The stench of sex and alcohol.  
Your eyes slid open, bloodshot and dim.  
 _Do you find me that appalling?_  
  
“I always come home to you.” You whispered against my throat, leaning heavily against me as I helped you to bed.  
“Do you want some water?”  
“Yuu, I come home to you.” Your hazy eyes met mine as you  
begged for understanding.  
“I know.”  
I knew.  
It was enough.  
  
Except on the mornings  
when I would lie alone in bed  
and the silver light, sharp and piercing like a migraine  
was a painful reminder  
that it wasn't.  
  
 _Turns out, ours was really a love story between a moth and a buzzing porch light._  
  
The lights of the city reflect off your eyes, pools of deep amber, and you smile softly, allowing your golden hair to fall forward so that the tips brush my chest with each lazy movement of your hips.  
“Almost there.” You murmur, reaching behind you to run your fingers along my thighs, and pressing your hand to my chest to push yourself upright.  
“I love you.” The words roll off your tongue effortlessly, and I close my eyes as I feel your warm breath fanning against my flushed cheeks.  
“Don't.” A single word ground out between gnashing teeth and labored breath.  
Don't say things you don't mean.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at:  
> http://sciencesaves.livejournal.com/24420.html


End file.
